


Almost Human

by molossiamerica (afjakwrites)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Beauty and the Beast AU, M/M, arthur’s the beast, everyone is gay omh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-11 02:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15305460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afjakwrites/pseuds/molossiamerica
Summary: Alfred has always wished for a life filled with adventure, but he may get more than he bargained for when he finds himself the prisoner of a monstrous beast.





	1. Prologue

The Prince sat upon his ornate throne, green eyes glimmering as they scanned the ballroom. As usual, it was packed to the brim with other noblemen and women from across the kingdom, all there to partake in the wondrously extravagant parties the Prince often held. A large orchestra had been situated toward the far end of the room against a wall and played so loudly the chandelier overhead shook in time. On the floor, people danced and laughed and drank carelessly, the Prince’s servants making sure that an empty glass wasn’t to be found throughout the entire room. 

The Prince was pleased, as he often was on such a night. Though outside a terrible storm raged, inside the party continued on as festive as ever, men and women gliding across the floor with their heads thrown back in loud laughter or conversation. In more secluded corners of the room, some were seen pressed against each other, locked in tight embraces. The ballroom was, as usual, the site of a decadent and indulgent party fostered by the Prince, the most indulgent of them all.

He delighted in the joy of others, if only for the fact that his own pride swelled with each laugh or smile or compliment they gave. Knowing that others were impressed by him, that he was the one to deliver such joy and fun to his subjects, only solidified what he already knew in his mind: that he was a grand Prince, the best the kingdom had ever seen, and he would continue to be until his last breath. Wherever he looked, someone commented on the exquisite taste of the wine, or the lovely decorations, or how splendid the music was—all compliments to the Prince, of course. 

For everything to come together so well indicated a man most capable of identifying the finer things, of separating the worthy from the unworthy. The Prince prided himself on his exceptional ability to do so; everything he selected was always in good taste, the finest that could be offered, and anyone who disagreed simply didn’t possess the same good judgement he did. As long as he’d lived, he’d never done anything truly wrong, and it was because of this that he was so confident in his abilities. 

He was a man of quality, and he was well aware of it. Thus, it was only natural that he rewarded himself by taking whatever he wanted. Tonight, he happened to want a coquettish young man standing by the bar, gazing in the Prince’s direction with a fan covering all of his face aside from a pair of captivating hazel eyes and thin, well-maintained brows. The man had been teasing for a while now, striding along in the Prince’s line of sight and casting longing looks his way. When he danced, he focused his eyes on the Prince rather than his partner, smirking whenever the Prince met his gaze.

Amused by the taunting look in the man’s eyes, the Prince rose from his seat. As expected, the sea of people parted instantly and allowed him passage to the bar. The Prince held his head high and maintained his confident smirk, strutting leisurely to the bar. The man slowly lowered the fan to reveal a handsome face, and the Prince only had to curl a finger in his direction to beckon him closer and get the man to approach. 

Wordlessly, the Prince took the young man by his collar and tugged him closer. Within seconds, the Prince had the young man against the wall, his mouth working against the other’s expertly. The man was equally enthusiastic, already tugging at the buttons on the Prince’s vest—made from the finest silk Europe had to offer, of course. The Prince responded by slipping his hands down to the man’s hips, tugging them closer to his own to create a delightful direction between them. 

“Er—Y-Your highness?” Came the thickly accented voice of the Prince’s personal servant, cutting through the wanton moans of the young man beneath the Prince’s fingertips. 

The man in question pulled back, harsh green eyes zeroing in on his servant with annoyance. “What?” He hissed. 

“There is a woman at the gates insisting to be let in,” said the man nervously, dropping his head in a bow. 

“Unless she is a guest, tell her to leave.” The Prince hissed, already turning his attention back to the young man. 

“Your highness, she will not go. I’ve told her, but she insists.” The servant said, still with his head bowed. 

Annoyed, the Prince extracted himself from the tangle of limbs and gave a mocking pout to his temporary companion, advising him to stay put. Then, he strode from the ballroom and down the hall, the servant trailing nervously behind him. He quickly entered the main hall, where a hooded figure was turned away from him, a wrinkled hand outstretched toward a sculpture perched upon a pillar. 

“I’d advise you not to touch that,” said the Prince, voice laced with annoyance.

The figured turned toward him, revealing herself to be an elderly woman. She was short and slight, her back hunched and her shoulders drawn inward. She looked up at him through a pair of tired, baggy eyes, and a small smile formed upon her wrinkled face. Several teeth were missing from her smile, the ones that she had yellowed. 

“Your highness, it is an honor,” she said, ducking her head the slightest bit in a bow. As she did so, several strands of her wiry white hair fell from the protection of her hood. 

“I cannot say the same, miss. You have interrupted an important party.” Said the Prince, looking down at her from the bridge of his slender, curved nose. His distaste for her was obvious in the slight upturn of his mouth in a cruel sneer, the furrow of his thick brows as he set his eyes upon her. 

“I apologize, your highness, for my intrusion. I only wish for a place to stay for the night, as this storm is too dangerous for me. I have no money, but I would be forever indebted to you if I was allowed a room for the night and perhaps something to eat.”

The Prince thought of the glorious feast laden with the finest food his country had to offer, still sitting just inside the ballroom, and frowned. This woman was wasting time he could be spending upstairs devouring both the wondrous food and the handsome man waiting for him. 

“And how, exactly, do you expect to repay me for my kindness?” He asked critically. 

The woman shook her head. “I do not have much, but I can offer you this,” she said, reaching into her cloak. After a moment, she revealed a beautiful red rose full in bloom. 

The Prince scoffed, somewhat amused by the pathetic offering the woman made. “Have you not seen the fantastic gardens just outside? There are thousands of roses there in every color they come, perfectly groomed. You have wasted enough of my time. Go now, before you are escorted out by my guards,” demanded the Prince harshly, already turning on his heel to walk away. 

“B-But your highness, please, I-I only need a room for a night and some water, please—”

“You dare question me, your Prince?” Asked the man, wheeling around to fix her with an icy stare. When she quieted, her grey eyes darkening with anger, he smirked. “Ivan, show this woman out and make sure she doesn’t come back in,” said the Prince, waving a guard over. 

Wordlessly, the guard approached. However, as he reached out to her, a blinding light suddenly engulfed the room, starling him. Both he and the Prince cried out in shock, throwing their hands over their eyes for protection. The Prince yelled for his servant to help him and started in what he thought was the direction of the staircase to escape. 

The light quickly faded, and suddenly a melodious, booming voice rang out. “You are unkind, your highness.”

The Prince lowered his arm, taking stock of the room. Where the haggard woman had once stood was now an ethereal woman, almost glowing in the beauty she possessed. The rags once tossed over her shoulder were now a shimmering dress of utmost beauty, flowing beautifully and gracing the palace’s marble floors. In one hand she held the rose, still in full bloom and as beautiful as ever. In the other, she held what the Prince instantly recognized to be a gorgeous, jewel-encrusted wand. 

“Y-You’re an enchantress,” the Prince stuttered out, cheeks burning with embarrassment and shame. “Forgive me, madam, had I known who you were earlier—”

“I am the same person now that I was when you first saw me, your highness,” the woman interrupted, her stare cold and her amber eyes full of pity. “You are arrogant and judgemental, thinking yourself above kindness.”

“N-No, madam, I’m not. I-I apologize for before, I-I meant nothing of it, please come join us upstairs and you may take refuge from this storm as long as you’d like. You will have the finest room to make up for my rudeness before, and we will celebrate in your honor tomorrow evening.”   


The woman approached, now standing tall over him, and pointed her wand at him. “Enough,” she scolded, noting how he trembled as he closed his mouth. “You have no kindness in your heart, your highness. You believe yourself to be better than others without any reason. You must learn the error of your ways.”

The Prince gulped, forest-green eyes widened in terror. “Please, I beg you to forgive me.”

The woman nodded. “I will forgive you,” she replied, “when you show can prove to me that you have learned. When you manage to earn the sincere love of another, you will be freed.”

“F-Freed?” The Prince echoed, trembled. “Spare me, please, I—”

The Prince was cut off by yet another blinding flash of light and a deafeningly loud crack of thunder. Magic engulfed him, invading every sense. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—all around him, an ethereal feeling had encompassed him. For a moment, all was lost to the terrible sensation of his mind and body being twisted, as though he were being irrevocably changed. Then, the light slowly began to fade and he was lowered to the ground, blinking in surprise. He hadn’t realized he’d been lifted to begin with. 

Head pounding, the Prince looked around. The enchantress was still standing before him, a delicate palm holding the rose out to him. “You have until the last petal falls to complete your task, or else all that I have done will remain until your last breath.”

“Wh-What have you done?” The Prince asked, only to gasp at the sound of his own voice. It had become rougher and deeper, entirely unappealing to his ears. He reached out for the rose and recoiled in horror at the sight of a ghastly, hairy, clawed palm where his pale hand should have been. 

“Heed my words, your highness: change before it is too late.” With those words, the woman disappeared into thin air. 

The Prince’s guttural scream rang out through the sudden, deafening silence of the castle.

 


	2. Chapter 1

As expected, the village was quieting down for the day by the time Alfred got off work. It was only six in the evening, and yet as he walked through the paths to his home he noticed that most businesses had already begun shutting their doors for the night. Through the open windows of the homes along the way, he could see that most of the families of his little villages were following a similar routine; inside the homes he could see most families seated around a table having dinner together, smiling and laughing as though they were perfectly content. Everyone seemed happy as they broke bread with one another, each face he passed by talking and smiling.

Alfred couldn’t imagine what they were talking about, nor could he fathom how they could be so content. After all, each day in their small village was exactly the same as the one before. Surely there was nothing new or exciting to speak of, and yet everyone in town always seemed to have something to say. Alfred himself was a talkative individual, he knew, but found that he kept to himself a bit when in the village. As much as he loved being social, he found the endless monotony in the village entirely exhausting, and quickly tired of the quaint country life the other townspeople found so invigorating. He’d complained to his elder brother, Matthew, about the boring town at length, but it seemed his sibling had fallen into the same trap as the rest of the villagers. 

They’d moved to their small village three years ago, just after the death of their father. At the time, Matthew had been twenty and Alfred sixteen, and they’d both happily settled down in the quaint, welcoming village. It had opened their doors to the two boys without hesitation, everyone within happy to help them get on their feet. Alfred was still grateful to the townspeople for their assistance, even though he found them somewhat boring. Both he and Matthew were well-liked even today, although the townspeople found Alfred and his constant need for adventure somewhat tiring. 

Unlike his brother, Matthew had remained content with the village ever since they’d moved there. A year after arriving, he’d began to date the village’s blacksmith, Gilbert Beilschmidt, who he was currently engaged to. Alfred was happy for his brother, knowing that he had found happiness with a man he truly loved and who loved him in return. He was secure in the knowledge that his elder brother would be well cared for, but with their wedding date rapidly approaching, the pressure for Alfred to get married was on. The few friends he had in town insisted that it was about time for him to settle down, picking many eligible women and men for Alfred to date, although they never went anywhere. Eventually, they’d given up and left Alfred alone, realizing that he was completely resistant to the idea of a marriage without love. 

One person, however, had taken a particular interest in Alfred and had remained interested despite Alfred’s obvious distaste. Antonio Carriedo, the golden boy of their small town, had spotted Alfred a year prior and had quickly bragged to all the townsfolk that he would make the defiant young Alfred his husband no matter what. When Alfred had caught wind of this, he’d been disgusted, but even Gilbert had reasoned that it wasn’t an undesirable match. Antonio was far too arrogant, yes, but he was wealthy and would certainly provide amply for Alfred until his death. Matthew had disagreed with his fiancée then, reasoning that Alfred shouldn’t marry for anything other than love. Alfred was grateful to his brother for his support, but even with his brother standing behind him he felt rather alone knowing that the rest of the townspeople were baffled by his frequent refusal of Antonio. 

“Hello, Alfred,” came a smooth, thickly accented voice from behind. 

Alfred turned, frowning at the sight of Antonio directly behind him, his lips almost pressed to his ear with how close he was.  _ Speak of the devil,  _ thought Alfred with annoyance, taking a step to the side. “Hi, Antonio,” he greeted in a bored tone. 

“How was work today, sweetheart?” Antonio purred, stepping closer to Alfred immediately. 

One of Alfred’s blond brows twitched in annoyance. “The same as it is every day when you ask me that.”

Antonio laughed as though the younger man was joking. “You look fantastic today, Alfred, have you gotten even taller since I last saw you?” He purred, referring to the American’s staggering height, several inches taller than himself. 

“Since yesterday?” Alfred asked sarcastically, looking down at the man with his usually bright eyes darkened in annoyance. “No, I haven’t.” 

“A lot can change in one day,” purred Antonio, taking Alfred’s hand in his. “For example, a man can go from employed to unemployed, single to engaged…” He said as he ran his tan fingers along Alfred’s tan palm. 

“Sounds like an eventful day for that guy.” Alfred pulled his hand from Antonio’s grip and hurriedly shoved both of his hands into his pockets. The defiant cowlick upon his golden hair bobbed when he turned his head away, not wanting to meet the man’s eyes.

“It could be you.” 

“How’s that?” 

Antonio hooked his arm through Alfred’s. “You could take my hand in marriage. I’d provide for you—you wouldn’t need your boring job anymore. And, I’ve been thinking that we could go on a trip for our honeymoon. A week wherever you want.” He said, green eyes gazing up at Alfred’s face through his thick eyelashes with a coy smirk.

At this, Alfred’s interest piqued momentarily. “Anywhere in the world?”

“Mhm, anywhere you’d like. When we came back home, you’d been the envy of the whole town, dripping in foreign goods. And, of course, with the most handsome man in town by your side.” 

Alfred faltered and wrenched himself away, his mouth curling with distaste as he remembered why it was that he routinely refused Antonio’s proposals. “No thanks,” he muttered, annoyed. 

“Oh, don’t be that way! Think about it, Alfred! Matthew and Gilbert are getting married in only two months, and they’re not going to want you to be living with them once they’re married! They’re going to be settling down, thinking about adopting, working on bettering their lives! Don’t you think it’s time you gave your brother a break and let him move on?” Antonio asked, knowing that the topic was a sensitive one for Alfred.

“I’ll get my own place,” responded Alfred with gritted teeth. “Besides, none of this is your business. I said I wasn’t going to marry you, Antonio. Why don’t you ask one of the other hundred people who would love to accept your proposal?” 

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re much more entertaining than them,” Antonio chuckled. 

Alfred rolled his eyes. “How romantic. I’m not a toy or a trophy, Antonio. I’m not here to amuse you or to make you look better.” 

As usual, Antonio remained resolutely calm, a sickly sweet smile stuck in his face as if he knew something Alfred didn’t about himself. “You’d do well to think about my offer, Alfred. You’ve kept me waiting long enough, and I’m a very impatient man. What I want, I get. And what I want is you. Don’t make me pull some strings at that job of yours.” He said, his tone light and airy even as a hint of malice flashed in his eyes. 

Alfred scoffed, rounding the corner to his home. “Are you threatening to have me fired?” He asked as he began walking up the stairs to the front porch of his home. 

Antonio followed him up to his front door, leaning against it to hold it closed. “I’m not threatening you at all, Alfred. I’m merely suggesting that if word got around that you find your job so boring, they might not be as keen to have you there, and then what would you do? It would be so much easier for you to quit and let me take care of you, don’t you agree?”

Alfred shoved Antonio away from the door and unlocked it, stepping inside: Antonio made to follow him in, but Alfred closed the door all but for a crack and met Antonio’s gaze. “I’d rather live on the street than in a house with you.” He said coldly before slamming the door in Antonio’s face. He then locked it and leaned against it, sighing heavily.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart!” Called Antonio through the door, amusement obvious in his voice. Alfred heard his footsteps as he walked down the stairs and away from the house and he sighed again, this time in relief.

“Antonio again?” Came a voice, this time from inside the house. 

Alfred’s eyes fluttered open and fixed in on his elder brother. He pushed himself away from the door and ran a hand through his golden blond hair, shaking his head. “He gets creepier every day,” the younger man grumbled, walking further into the house.

Matthew gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, Al. I wish he would leave you alone.” 

Alfred shrugged and pushed his spectacles back into place. “Yeah, me too. No worries, though—how’s the packing coming?” 

“I’m all finished. I was just waiting for you to say goodbye.”

“Mattie, is Alfred here yet?” Called Gilbert’s voice from further inside the small house. 

“I’m here!” Alfred called back, following his brother toward the kitchen. 

Gilbert was waiting by the back door and held it open for the two brothers. Matthew’s horse, Maple, was tied up by the back gate, Matthew’s bags already secured to him. Alfred smiled and walked over to the horse, petting his mane fondly before turning back to his brother. 

“Four days, right?” 

“Four days,” Matthew affirmed with a nod. “I’ll have a messenger send word on my sales by the second night.” 

Alfred nodded and pulled his elder brother into a gentle embrace. Matthew patted his back gently and Alfred smiled before pulling away. After Matthew and Gilbert said their goodbyes and shared a quick kiss, Matthew mounted Maple and waved a final goodbye. Alfred and Gilbert stood beside each other and waved, watching Matthew as he rode down the narrow street until he turned a corner and started into the woods, disappearing from sight.

“Are you staying here tonight, Gil?” Alfred asked his soon-to-be brother-in-law, as he often kept Alfred company on Matthew’s trips. 

“Can’t,” Gilbert shook his head, pale hair falling into his face as he did so. “I’ve gotta go home and tend to some things, but I’ll be back tomorrow to see if Matthew’s sent word.” 

The pair bid each other goodbye and Alfred went inside the house, locking the back door behind him. After making himself something to eat and having a glass of water, he wandered the house for a while and eventually found himself in Matthew’s study. 

As usual, the small room was kept neat and tidy. A few of Matthew’s current projects—maps needed by a noblewoman from a town nearby—were laid out on his desk, half-finished. Against the wall, a large bundle of rolled paper in various shapes rested. Above the desk, other maps and reference items had been pinned to the wall. Aside from that, the only thing in the room was a small bookshelf containing most of the other references Matthew used when making the maps, along with a worn portrait done of their father and mother perched in an empty space on the shelf. 

Alfred sighed, running his hands along the paingong and over the faces of his parents. The gentle smile of the mother he never knew made him smile himself, and the sweet glint of his father’s blue eyes warmed his heart. After a moment, Alfred bent down further and randomly chose a book off the shelf, taking it to Matthew’s desk. He sat down and idly flipped through the pages, quickly becoming bored. Before he knew it, he’d fallen asleep with a book on the geography of Great Britain open in his lap, only to wake When a sudden crack of thunder sounded overhead.

Alfred jolted upright, looking around. He closed Matthews’s book and set it on his desk before leaving, approaching a window in the kitchen. The sky had fallen and it was dark now, meaning it had been a few hours since his brother’s departure. Another monstrous crack of thunder sounded, and then the sky opened and poured down mercilessly upon the town. The sound of heavy rain pounding down upon the roof of their small home, paired with the sudden strike of lightning, made Alfred’s heart drop into his stomach. He looked out the window in the direction of the woods and frowned, hoping that his brother had found shelter for the night. 

* * *

Matthew was still two hours away from the inn he usually stayed in when he heard the distant rumbling of thunder. He looked up, noting the dark purple of the sky which indicated a storm. It wasn’t raining yet, but he knew it was soon to start, and frowned. The maps he’d brought to sell were well-protected, but nonetheless he would rather not travel in the rain. He continued on his usual path for a moment, contemplating what to do when he noticed a sudden fork in the road. He’d seen it often upon his journey, but had never stopped to explore as the woods down that way seemed foreboding somehow, as though there was a dark secret held within the branches of the gnarled trees that hung overhead.

_ Perhaps there’s something down there _ , Matthew thought,  _ a place where I could stay.  _ He pulled at Maple’s reins and the horse stalled as his owner contemplated which way to take. Then, a bolt of lightning struck a way’s down Matthew’s usual path, making him flinch. He guided Maple in the direction of the new path and kept his eyes peeled for any place to stay. Thunder cracked overhead as Maple trotted along, branches of trees creaking in the wind. One branch even snagged the edge of Matthew’s cloak, ripping it and leaving a piece blowing in the growing wind. They’d only progressed a small way’s down the path when, to Matthew’s great shock, a large, Victorian castle came into a view. He gaped at the impressive structure and instantly guided Maple towards it, thinking that he could offer a small payment for a room inside, even if it was just in the servant’s quarters. 

They made it to the imposing double doors of the castle just as rain began to fall, and Matthew tied Maple up beneath a large stone archway that would protect him from the rain, promising to return as soon as he knew where the stables were. Then, he knocked at the door. When, after a moment there was no answer, he knocked again and the door creaked open. Matthew stepped back for a moment, thinking someone would appear, but there was no one. 

Peering inside curiously, Matthew hesitantly pushed the door open and stepped inside. It was dim in the foyer of the castle, and rather cold as well. Save for a few candles scattered around the room, there was almost no light at all. 

“Hello?” Matthew called quietly, a chill running down his spine. 

Again, there was no response, and he took a chance by stepping further into the castle. This time, he raised his voice: “Hello? Is anyone here?” 

Behind him, the door slammed shut. He whipped around, dark blue eyes widening in horror. The slam of the door echoed throughout the extensive room ominously and he started toward it, only to freeze. As the echo quieted, he heard the faint sound of breathing behind him. Stiff as a board, he turned toward the source of the noise, eyes going wide in shock at the sight before him. 

Before he could scream, a clawed paw clamped down over his mouth.


	3. Chapter 2

Alfred wasn’t worried when he didn’t receive word from Matthew on the first day, nor was Gilbert. Both men were confident in Matthew’s abilities; he’d travelled in the rain more than once and been fine.

Gilbert, however, was coming down with a cold due to working in the rain the previous night. He’d insisted that it was only a minor illness, but nonetheless Alfred had made him a cup of tea and made Gilbert promise to return the next day to check in. That way, Gilbert would be able to know the moment Alfred got word from Matthew, and Alfred could keep a close eye on him to make sure he recovered alright. 

On the second night, Alfred was somewhat worried. Gilbert had arrived at the house later than he’d promised and in terrible condition, exhausted and feverish. Despite his worry for his brother, Alfred decided to stay at home and tend to Gilbert, watching over him and growing more and more nervous as the night wore on. Gilbert was in a terrible state; he refused to eat or drink, and he was bedridden. He was constantly shivering, even after Alfred had scoured the house for every last blanket they owned and laid it over him. Alfred was also careful to make sure Gilbert drank water and ate, but it was never long before the man’s body had rejected it.

On the third night without any word from Matthew, Alfred decided that something was wrong. Gilbert agreed that someone should go check on Matthew, and had tried to insist on his accompanying Alfred to find him, but had quickly been refused. Alfred began to pack his bags, fretting for both his brother and for Gilbert as he did so. It was clear that Gilbert was still far too sick to be left alone—someone would need to tend to him while Alfred was away. Being that it was already nearing midnight and he didn’t want to disturb anyone, he decided to call upon the one person who he knew wouldn’t mind being woken at such an hour. Thus, Alfred pushed his pride to the side and made his way to Antonio’s house, cursing his bad luck under his breath the whole way.

The man lived just down the street, making the trip quick. Alfred knocked hurriedly on the door, biting at his plush lower lip. Antonio answered quickly, green eyes widening at the sight of Alfred in the doorway. However, his shock quickly melted into pleasure and he smiled smugly at Alfred, leaning against the doorframe and raking his eyes along Alfred’s figure. 

“Well, hello,” Antonio purred. 

“Not now, Antonio. I really need your help,” said Alfred hurriedly. 

“What’s wrong?” Asked Antonio, his smug smile faltering. 

“I’ll explain on the way—can you stay at my house tonight?” Alfred asked, already turning and walking down the stairs of Antonio’s porch. 

Antonio instantly brightened and snatched a pair of boots off the floor beneath his coat rack. Then, he rushed after Alfred, who was already standing by the path and waiting impatiently for him. Alfred started walking immediately, his strides long and his pace quick. Antonio hurried after him, falling into step beside him. 

“Matthew hasn’t come back from his trip yet, and I need to go look for him. He was supposed to send me a letter yesterday, but I haven’t gotten anything from him yet.” Alfred explained, leading Antonio into his house. “Gilbert is sick and needs someone to stay with him. Will you please, please stay here and look after him?” 

“Let me look for Matthew. A delicate man like you shouldn’t be wandering around in the woods,” Antonio reasoned, puffing out his chest pridefully as if to show off his strength.

Alfred’s eyebrow twitched with annoyance and he responded, perhaps a bit too forcefully; “No. I’m going to look for him. You stay here.” Realizing that his harshness might deter Antonio from helping at all, Alfred sought to remedy it by swallowing his pride once again. He turned toward the man, batting his eyes and taking one of the man’s tan hands in his. He knew it was wrong, but he justified his manipulative actions by thinking of Antonio’s complete lack of respect for his personal space and boundaries. “Please? I really need you here, Antonio. I know Matthew’s route better than anyone. I wouldn’t want you getting lost—I couldn’t stand it if I lost both of you.”

Alfred could tell it had worked when Antonio’s shoulders slumped and he nodded. “Alright,” he said, squeezing Alfred’s hand, “I’ll look after him.”

“Thank you, Antonio. I owe you one.” 

At this, Antonio brightened, a grin coming to his face. Alfred shuddered, realizing that he’d only given Antonio additional reason to pursue him in the future. 

“Yes, you do. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone. Perhaps when you return you will be more receptive to the idea of marriage.” 

Alfred wanted to disagree and put an end to the man’s thoughts then and there, but he knew it wasn’t the time. He bid Antonio and Gilbert a hasty farewell and quickly left the village on Gilbert’s house. He rode fast down the path into the woods, riding for about two hours along the darkened forest path before he came to a fork in the road. Alfred knew that Matthew would usually take the path on the right to get to town, but something caught his eye on the left path. He hesitantly approached the branch of a gnarled tree where a small piece of torn cloth hung. Logically, the cloth could belong to anyone, but there was a sinking feeling in Alfred’s gut that prompted him to continue down the path. 

He rode on for a short time before the sky suddenly darkened above him, Alfred looked around, noting with mounting dread that he was approaching a large, gloomy castle shrouded in black. Despite the warmth he’d felt outside only moments prior, Alfred felt the air grow cold around him and he pulled his worn cloak tighter around him. He gave Gilbert’s horse a soft kick and the animal sped up, taking Alfred right to the front door of the massive castle.

As Alfred slid off the horse, he noted a scroll of paper beneath an awning. Immediately fearing the worst, Alfred was quick to snatch the scroll off of the ground and unravel it, his heart immediately dropping into the pit of his stomach. He immediately recognized the careful, precise handiwork of his older brother, as well as the man’s signature on the back of the paper. It was instantly clear that Matthew had been here at some point, and Alfred was determined to find out how long ago, and where he had gone next.

With the map still clutched tightly in Alfred’s hand, he walked to do the door and tried the knob. The door creaked open loudly, as though it wasn’t often used. Alfred stepped into the castle, gulping as he looked around the desolate, darkened foyer. 

“Hello?” He shouted loudly, his voice bouncing off the walls. When there was no answer, he cupped his hands around his mouth and repeated his previous shout, this time making himself as loud as he possibly could. 

“Hello?!” Came a sudden call in a voice that Alfred recognized instantly. 

“Matt!”

“Alfred?!” 

At the sound of his brother’s voice, Alfred dashed toward the source of it: a dark, concrete staircase half hidden in the darkness of the room. It was lit only by candles and Alfred snatched one off the wall without thought, practically sprinting down the stairs. 

“Mattie?! Where are you?!” Alfred cried as he continued down the winding staircase, stopping when he reached the bottom and faced with a long hall of what appeared to be crude prison cells. 

“Down here!” Came Matthew’s voice from the end of the hall.

Alfred rushed to him, gasping at the sight of his elder brother trapped behind thick metal bars.

“Mattie!” Cried Alfred in shock, pressing himself against the bars and reaching through them as much as he could. Matthew followed in suit, gripping his brother’s arms tightly in as best of a hug as he could manage through the cold metal bars.

“What happened?” Alfred asked worriedly, pulling back. Immediately, he began searching for a key or anything else he could use to break his brother out.

“Alfred, you have to go,” Matthew said urgently. “I love you, Al, but you need to run now!”

Alfred looked to him and scowled. “I’m not going anywhere without you! Whoever did this to you is gonna pay!”

Matthew reached through the bars and took Alfred’s sleeve to get his attention. When Alfred met his gaze, he was shocked to find his brother staring at him with eyes widened in utter terror. “Please, Al, go now! It’s a monster, you have to run—”

“Too late,” came a gruff, British-accented voice, startling Matthew and Alfred. 

Alfred whipped around, glaring into the darkness in the direction of the voice. “Who are you and why did you do this to my brother?” He demanded, standing tall. 

“Your brother was trespassing on my property. I see it runs in the family.” Replied the voice. 

“I-I was only looking for shelter from the storm, and my brother was only trying to find me. Please, let us go and we will never return,” said Matthew shakily. 

“I don’t take well to criminals, regardless of their motive. One of you must stay and pay for your disrespect.” Said the beast, making sure to keep himself concealed in the darkness.

Without hesitation, Alfred took a step forward, face hardened. “Then let me pay and release him.” 

“No! Al, no, don’t do this, you don’t know what you’re doing!” Matthew cried, tightening his grip on his brother’s sleeve. 

The beast scoffed. “You will never be allowed to leave this place again, nor will you have any visitors. Are you sure you wish to stay?” 

Alfred looked to his brother, his expression softening at the sight of the tears in his brother’s eyes. He looked back in the direction of the voice and nodded. “I’ll stay,” he replied, his bottom lip trembling as he spoke. 

“Al, no, it’s a monster!” Matthew cried. “You’re not staying here!”

Alfred ignored him and gulped, raising a candle further into the darkness. Shocking the beast, he began to step forward, walking toward him. The beast stepped back, recoiling from the light, but soon the young man was upon him and raising the candle to his face, illuminating it. 

As expected, Alfred’s eyes widened and he gasped, stumbling back in shock at the sight of the ghastly beast towering over him. The beast resisted the urge to look ashamed, although he certainly felt it. Instead, he allowed anger to take over and sneered maliciously at the young man, who was still staring up at him with fear in his eyes. 

“Do you still wish to stay here?” He asked sarcastically, knowing very well that no one would ever agree to stay with him. He was already half turned away, readying to call a servant down to escort Alfred out, when the man spoke. 

“As long as you let Matthew go, I’ll stay.” 

The beast whipped around, shocked. His eyes met Alfred’s, shocked by both the determination and beauty in the bright blue eyes he saw. Upon further inspection, it became clear that Alfred was not unattractive; quite the opposite, really. He stood tall and determined, refusing to show fear, and looked resolutely into the beast’s eyes all the while. The beast was instantly struck by him, astonished by the selflessness he possessed. 

“There will be no changing your mind after this.” The beast cautioned.

Alfred’s stare didn’t falter for even a moment. “I understand. Let him go.”

The beast continued to stare at him for a moment, simply taking in the beauty of the man’s face as it was illuminated by the candle in his hand. “Very well,” he said, turning away and toward the stairs. “Ivan!” He called.

Footsteps were heard, and a moment later a new voice called down, “yes, my lord?” In a thick Russian accent. 

“Escort the prisoner out of the castle, and make sure he stays out.”

“Yes, my lord.” Said Ivan. 

Footsteps were heard as the man came downstairs, and then he’d appeared in the doorway. At the sight of Alfred, he stalled momentarily, giving Alfred a chance to take him in. He was blond, with hair so light it was nearly white. He stood an inch or two taller than Alfred, astonishing the man (who was unnaturally tall himself), and had stark pale skin that contrasted against his dark blue eyes. Ivan seemed to take him in as well, but quickly regained his composure and stepped past him, extracting a ring of keys from his pocket.

He opened Matthew’s cell door and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him down the hall and toward the stairs. 

“Can I say goodbye at least?” Alfred asked, standing in Ivan’s path.

“Al, don’t do this! Please, you can’t stay here, y-you can’t—”

“Take him away, Ivan. I don’t want to see him in here again.” Said the beast coldly. 

Alfred’s eyes widened and he quickly rushed forward, flinging his arms across his brother’s shoulders to prevent him from being dragged away. “I love you!” He cried, burying his face in the man’s shoulder. 

“I love you too, Al! I-I won’t let you stay here! I won’t leave, I won’t—!”

“Good god,” groaned the beast as he stepped forward. Conscious of his claws, he carefully took Alfred by his arm and dragged him off of Matthew even as Alfred flailed about in a desperate attempt to escape.

“Let me go! Get off of me!” Alfred shouted, reaching out desperately for Matthew as the man was dragged away and up the stairs, shouting for him all the way. 

Alfred listened to his brother’s cries even as they became further and further away, deflating when they were abruptly cut off by what sounded like the door slamming roughly. His shoulders slumped and he whimpered, finally allowing the grief and fear he’d stifled to overtake him. Before he knew it, tears were falling freely from his eyes and he was limp in the beast’s hold, hanging over his arm like a ragdoll.

Despite himself, the beast couldn’t help but to feel guilty to have torn two people who obviously loved each other apart. He reasoned that it was for the best—that having them both here would distract from the ultimate goal—but he couldn’t help the shame that pooled within him as he watched the young man slump toward the ground, the candle falling from his hand and extinguishing upon hitting the concrete floor. 

“Come on, then,” The beast urged, trying to keep his voice neutral and cold. 

“Fuck you!” Shouted Alfred in return, shoving at the large clawed paw still gripping him tightly. 

“There’s no point in resisting. Come with me now.” Commanded the beast, his brows furrowing in annoyance. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you! Why don’t you just leave me here to die like you did to Matt, huh?!” Alfred shouted back ferociously, tears still falling freely. 

Anger immediately flared up within the beast, who had no patience for insolence. “How dare you shout at me?!” He hollered back, trying to make himself appear frightening. He was incapable of physically harming any living thing, let alone such a beautiful man, but Alfred didn’t know that yet—thus, he played up his monstrous form by forcefully dragging Alfred closer to shout at him. “You will do as I say or you will face the consequences!” 

Shockingly, Alfred swung out with his palm and smacked the beast’s face defiantly. “Make me!” He spat, just as angry as the beast if not more. 

Although the slap itself didn’t affect the beast in the slightest, the idea that Alfred could be so insolent certainly drove him mad. Fuming, the beast swept an arm out and took Alfred by the waist, tossing the American over his shoulder without a second thought. 

“Hey!” Alfred shouted, kicking and hitting as he was thrown over the beast’s broad shoulder. “Put me down! Put me down right now!”

The beast ignored him completely, stomping up the stairs and slamming the door to the dungeon shut as he exited. Alfred continued to shout, hitting his back and  all the way up the grand staircase. As they walked, servants began to appear, gaping at the sight of the beast carrying Alfred toward the east wing of the castle. 

“Put me down you fucking creep!” Alfred demanded, shouting as loud as he could.

After passing by multiple guest bedrooms, the beast finally stopped in front of the doorway of one and opened it, setting Alfred down inside. Without a word, he pulled the door shut and waved another servant over.

“Lock the door from the outside and make sure he doesn’t get out.” He instructed, turning on his heel and heading toward the west wing without another word. 

The woman did as she was told, locking the door whilst the unfamiliar man pounded on it from the inside.


	4. Chapter 3

After being thrown out of the castle, Matthew had pounded on the door until his hands were bruised and yelled until his voice was hoarse in an attempt to be let back in. Of course, all of the castle entryways he could find had been locked and were impossible to get into, to his frustration. It just his luck that his idiotic, self-proclaimed “hero” of a brother would waltz in the second Matthew was in danger and sacrifice himself without a second thought. It was so like Alfred to do such impulsive, selfless things—Matthew loved him for it, yes, but he also hated him for it. Knowing how much Alfred undervalued his own life made his heart ache. 

Especially now, when Alfred’s perception of himself as being less worthy than his elder brother could cost him his life. Granted, Matthew hadn’t been anywhere near death while at the castle—afraid and trapped, yes, but he’d been fed three rather fantastic meals, and aside from the occasional word from the servants who delivered his meals, he’d been left to his own devices. Still, the idea of Alfred being locked up in a dark cell for the rest of his life was a horrifying thought, and it certainly wasn’t the worst Matthew could conjure up. 

After deciding that standing outside the castle yelling wasn’t helping, Matthew reluctantly decided to leave. To his relief, Gilbert’s horse was tied up outside and Matthew didn’t hesitate to start the journey back home, desperate to get help and head back to the castle as soon as possible. He regretted leaving Alfred alone in the castle at all, but he knew that trying to get in without assistance was useless. 

Thus, Matthew was forced to reflect on his brother’s capture as he rode home. The beast had agreed to a trade off between Matthew and Alfred for a reason, which made Matthew think that his intentions were malicious. But what could he possibly want with Alfred that he hadn’t wanted from Matthew? They were nearly identical in appearance, although their personalities were quite obviously different. Perhaps the beast had been entertained by Alfred’s stubborn determination and had plans to torture him for further amusement? The mere thought caused Matthew to clutch the reins in his hands a bit tighter. 

By the time he’d finally reached home, Matthew had worked himself into a panic. He leapt off of Gilbert’s horse with little thought and burst into his home through the back door, shouting his fiancée’s name loudly. 

“Matthew?” Antonio asked, appearing in the doorway to the kitchen. 

Matthew’s mouth fell open in shock. “Antonio? What are you doing here?"

“Alfred asked me to look after Gilbert while he went to find you,” Antonio answered. “Where is Alfred?” 

“What’s wrong with Gilbert?!” Matthew cried, pushing past Antonio and into his bedroom. At the sight of his fiancée laying on his bed looking feverish, he gasped. 

“Matt!” Gilbert cried, a relieved smile coming to his face. He reached out with a weak, clammy hand, caressing the man’s cheek. “I’m so happy you’re back! Why didn’t you write?” 

Matthew’s lip trembled and he took Gilbert’s hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “Alfred’s in trouble,” he said urgently. “I came home to get help but I have to go back, we have to save him, Gil—“ 

“What’s happened to Alfred?” Demanded Antonio as he stepped into the room. 

“Birdie, calm down and tell us what happened,” said Gilbert gently, his brows knitted together with concern. 

Matthew shook his head. “We have to save him, Gilbert! There was—th-there was a monster! It was huge a-and it trapped me in the castle and—“ 

“Castle? What castle?” Antonio interrupted, scowling. 

“Shut up and let him talk!” Gilbert admonished, staring worriedly at his boyfriend.

“He took Alfred,” Matthew whimpered, tears coming to his eyes at the memory. “Al found me—I-I don’t know how, but he did—and I was trapped and he wanted to get me out, but the beast wouldn’t let us both go. He said one had to stay, and Al offered himself up. I begged him not to—I didn’t want him to, Gil, but they threw me out. W-We have to save him, the monster could hurt him or s-something, we have to—“ 

“I’ll find him!” Antonio exclaimed immediately. “Do not worry, Matthew, I will save Alfred and bring him home!” 

Matthew turned to him and nodded. “Thank you, Antonio!” He cried. “We have to get some people together, find a group that could help us fight to get him back. There are some strong servants in the castle, plus the beast—“ 

“Ah-ah, not so fast. I would be happy to help Alfred, as you well know.” Antonio said. “However, I would need something in return from you for this. From what you say, I could be risking my life!” 

“B-But—But Alfred is in danger! Don’t you want to help him?!” Matthew cried, appalled. 

“Of course I do! I would love to help Alfred—and I will. That is, if you agree to give me his hand in marriage once I save him.” 

Matthew faltered momentarily, jaw dropping. Antonio was crazy—that much was clear. “No! I can’t make Al do anything, nor would I want to!” 

“Oh, but you could—don’t you want to save your brother?” Asked Antonio, grinning maliciously at Matthew. 

It was obvious that the beast was fake, Antonio reasoned. Matthew had probably hit his head on the trip and invented the story—but Alfred was still missing, and Antonio could certainly use it to his advantage. As it was, Gilbert’s illness seemed to be getting progressively worse. If he refused to help any further, Matthew would be forced to stay and watch him. And, seeing that he was the golden boy of their little village, it would be easy to convince anyone else Matthew went to for help that the young man was crazy, driven hysterical by grief over his missing brother. Thus, Matthew would only have one person to rely on—himself. It wouldn’t be immediate, no, but it would pay off when he finally gave in and agreed to marry Alfred off to him. Then the obstacle would be finding Alfred—a simple task, Antonio reasoned. Alfred had a wanderer’s spirit and it was obvious he wanted to leave the village—he’d probably gone in search of adventure in nearby towns. 

“How dare you?! Get out!” Matthew shouted, fuming. There were still tears in his eyes as he pointed to the door, glaring murderously at Antonio. 

Antonio smirked. “Alright,” he said smoothly, “but when you need help, remember that my aid comes with a price. A small one to pay for his safety, really—I would never let anything happen to him. He would never want for anything under my roof.” 

“He said ‘get out’!” Gilbert huffed.

Antonio shrugged his shoulders and did as he was told, calling out, “You know where to find me!” as he left. 

* * *

Alfred woke to the sound of knocking. He jerked up into a sitting position, realizing that he’d fallen asleep slumped against a luxuriously plush lounge couch crafted from soft, deep blue velvet. He blinked, wide-eyed as he looked around and began to take in his surroundings. Then, the door opened and his head jerked toward it so fast he nearly got whiplash.

He scrambled to his feet, immediately on the defensive and glaring harshly. However, at the sight of a beautiful young woman stepping hesitantly into the room in what appeared to be a maid’s uniform, he softened. She wore a simple long-sleeved black dress that fell to her ankles and a stark white apron tied around her waist, as well as a black headband which kept her long, straight hair from her face. Like the servant Alfred seen the night before, she had stark pale skin, dark blue eyes, and blonde hair so light it was nearly white. Her face was a mask of indifference, but there was something in her eyes that made Alfred think she had no intention of hurting him. 

“Hello,” she said in a neutral, somewhat quiet tone. “I am here to run you a bath.”

“Huh?” Alfred asked, blinking confusedly as she stepped further into the room. “Who are you?”

The woman stared at him, seeming to study him. “I’m Natalia,” she replied carefully as though she hadn’t wished to tell him. “I will tend to you this morning.”

Alfred’s blond brows furrowed, his confusion obvious. “Sorry, I really don’t think I understand. What about the beast? And the dungeons? Aren’t I being punished?” Realizing what he was saying, Alfred flushed. “N-Not that I want to be or anything—I just don’t understand what I’m doing in a room like this,” Alfred said, gesturing vaguely to their luxurious surroundings. 

“The master is not going to punish you. He would like you to be comfortable,” said Natalia simply, turning around walking further into the room. 

Alfred was surprised to find that there was a door on either end of the room. Natalia went to the right and opened the door, quickly being followed by Alfred. As they stepped into a bathroom that was larger than the living room at Alfred’s home, the American’s jaw dropped. The entire room had been crafted of the most fantastic marble, with a huge gold-plated bathtub in the center of the room. Natalia knelt by the bath and turned the water on, placing her hand beneath the spout. 

“How warm would you like it?” She asked, her accent thick and similar to the servant from the day before.

Alfred flushed, somewhat embarrassed. “Um—I can do that myself, honestly, you don’t need to. I’d rather you tell me what’s going on. When you say ‘the master’ do you mean the beast?” 

Natalia sighed as if she were annoyed and turned off the water, straightening. “Yes, that would be him. Although I wouldn’t recommend calling him that."

“I don’t understand. Why did he give me such a nice room? And why are you here?”

“As I said before, the master would like you to be comfortable. If you will not bathe, allow me to help you get dressed.” Said the woman smoothly as she exited the bathroom.

Once again, Alfred hurriedly followed after her. He was beginning to suspect that she didn’t want to answer his questions, though he wasn’t sure why. “H-Hey, wait. I just want to know what’s going on.” 

Natalia turned toward him and her expression shifted from one of cold indifference to one of guilt. She opened her mouth to speak, but at that exact moment the door opened again and this time, three people entered at once. 

Alfred turned around, eyes immediately widening at the sight of the servant from the night before, the one who had dragged his brother out of the palace. Alfred folded his arms across his chest and glared daggers at the man despite the slight fear he felt looking at the man who had played a hand in separating him from his brother the night before. 

“What are you doing here?” He demanded instantly. 

“I see you remember me,” said the man with a smile that seemed both amused and sad. “I am Ivan, though you may already know. I apologize for what happened last night—I do not take what happened lightly. It was not my choice.” He replied, shame heavy in his dark eyes. 

Alfred faltered, his anger quickly disappearing. As much as he wanted to blame him, he knew it wouldn’t be fair—Ivan was clearly only another servant to the tyrannical “master”, who was truly the one to blame. 

Alfred sighed. “I get it, but that’s about the only thing that makes sense right now. Why is the beast so concerned with me all of a sudden? Yesterday he said I was a criminal, and today I wake up in the fanciest room I’ve ever seen.” 

A kind-eyed brown haired man stepped forward then, laying a gentle hand on Alfred’s shoulder. Despite himself, Alfred was comforted by the man’s kind green eyes and found himself relaxing somewhat, instantly taking to the man and his friendly demeanor.

“The master is a complicated person, but I can assure you that he wishes you no harm. He wants you to be comfortable here—we have been sent to make sure of that. I’m Toris, your personal attendant. As you’ll notice, there is a rope beside your bed—you can pull it to call for me if you need anything.”

Alfred nodded. “Thanks… This is weird, though. I-I’m not used to being treated like this. I don’t have noble blood or anything…”

Natalia chuckled. “That much is obvious,” she said sarcastically, causing Toris to shoot her a look. 

Despite himself, Alfred found himself laughing at the comment, his mind eased by anything that allowed him to smile even momentarily. As his eyes flickered across the people in the room, they fell upon the one person who had yet to be introduced: another beautiful woman, this one wearing a light blue dress that fell just below her knees who appeared to be in her thirties. She possessed the same light hair, pale skin, and deep blue` eyes as Ivan and Natalia, and well as a particularly well-endowed bust. 

“Who are you?” Alfred asked, meeting her gaze. 

She smiled pleasantly and stepped forward, offering a calloused hand to the young man. “I am Katyusha, your seamstress. I will be taking your measurements and making new clothes for you while you stay here."

Alfred accepted her hand in a firm grim, shaking it with a kind smile. “Hi, Katyusha. In case you guys don’t already know, I’m Alfred. My brother was the, er, prisoner that was in the dungeons until last night.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Alfred,” said Toris kindly. “We are all very happy to have you here. It has been so long since we’ve had a guest.’

“You mean prisoner?” Alfred retorted sarcastically. 

Toris winced, unsure of what to say. Luckily for him, Natalia stepped in. “Whatever the circumstances are, you will be treated like a guest. You should not want for anything as long as we are here.”

Alfred looked up, grimacing. “Look, I really appreciate the effort ‘cause you all seem really nice, but the only thing I want is to go home and see my brother.” He mumbled sadly. 

At this, the room fell silent for a moment. It was clear that none of the servants had any idea how to comfort him after such a statement. 

“Er—perhaps we should leave you to get your measurements taken?” Said Ivan quickly. “Natalia? Toris? Shall we leave Katyusha to her work?”

“N-No, wait,” Alfred said quickly. When they all stopped and turned expectantly toward him, he flushed, realizing for the first time that the servants seemed bound to obey his will as well as the master’s. “Er—I-I just had a few more questions, but if you’re all busy, I don’t want to bother anyone…” 

“Believe me,” said Natalia with an amused smirk playing upon her lips, “we have not been busy in a long time.”

“We will answer your questions while I take your measurements. If you would stand there, Lord Alfred,” Katyusha said, gesturing toward a small, circular platform situated in front of a large mirror. 

“Just Alfred is fine, really,” Alfred said quickly, somewhat embarrassed as he moved to stand on the podium. “And, um, I was just wondering when it was that  my brother first got here. I mean, how long was he here?”

“The night you came would be his third night here. A few days ago there was a bad storm. He said that he was trying to get out of the bad weather, but the master took it as trespassing and put him in the dungeons.” Ivan answered. 

Alfred looked down sadly. “Was he fed and stuff?”

“Of course!” Exclaimed Toris, seeming appalled by the notion that they would have starved a prisoner. “The master is harsh, but he isn’t cruel.” 

Alfred looked to him with one brow quirked. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” said Katyusha. “He is simply hotheaded and rash at times. However, he always realizes his mistakes and tries to make things right. That is why he would like to make sure that you are well taken care of and comfortable here.” 

Alfred looked down at the woman as she wrapped a piece of measuring tape around his waist. “Why are you all defending him? Isn’t he cruel to you, too? You don’t have to serve someone like him, you know.” 

“The master isn’t cruel to us,” Ivan answered. “He took me, my sisters, and many of our friends in when we had nowhere to go, and has provided well for us ever since. We are treated well here.”

Alfred looked at Ivan skeptically, but decided not to comment on it. He didn’t know why the servants all seemed so intent on proving to him that the beast wasn’t a bad person, but he wouldn’t fall for it. No matter what he had done for other people, Alfred couldn’t imagine anything that would erase the pain of being taken away from his brother without even being allowed a proper goodbye, knowing that he would never be allowed to see Matthew again. It was a pain worse than anything Alfred had ever experienced, and it wasn’t something he was soon to forget. 

“The master is… misguided, that is all,” added Toris sagely. “It may not seem like it, but he is a kind man with a good heart, He simply needs some help seeing that.”

At this, all of the servants looked expectantly at Alfred. The American blinked, confused. They didn’t expect him to try and help, did they? He didn’t want anything to do with the beast—least of all to  _ help _ him with anything. He didn’t believe their words to begin with, and he wasn’t going to waste time trying to encourage kindness in a monster who was so obviously incapable of it. 

“I’m finished,” Katyusha said after a moment, straightening out from where she’d been bent over, taking the measurements of Alfred’s legs. 

“Perhaps we should leave Alfred alone so he can get ready for breakfast,” suggested Toris. 

“Breakfast?” Alfred echoed. As if on cue, his stomach growled and he flushed, embarrassed. 

Toris smiled kindly at him and nodded. “Breakfast will be ready in an hour. I will be back to escort you downstairs then. In the meantime, you’re welcome to take a bath and try some of the clothes on—your closet is the door to the left. The clothes probably won’t fit you perfectly, but you should be able to find something new to change into for now.”

“Okay,” Alfred agreed. “What about exploring? Can I look around a little?”

The servants exchanged a look among each other and the Ivan spoke. “Maybe after breakfast one of us can show you around.”

“Can’t I look around by myself?”

“No!” Exclaimed Natalia quickly. 

“Especially not the west wing,” said Katyusha, earning herself a nudge in the side from Natalia. 

“What? Why not?” Alfred asked, brows raising. 

“No reason,” Toris quickly interrupted with a nervous chuckle. “It’s in disrepair, dangerous to go in there, that’s all. We wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

Alfred was skeptical once again, but decided it was better not to make his curiosity known. He fixed an oblivious smile upon his face and nodded, pretending to accept his words. The servants seem relieved by this and left the room quickly, leaving him to his own devices. 


	5. Chapter 4

Alfred ate dinner in silence. It was quite possibly one of the best-tasting meals he’d ever had, and for that he was appreciative, but the servants insisted that it was improper to dine with him and all but one, an unfamiliar and particularly young-looking boy, had left. The boy stood by the wall with his hands clasped in front of him and didn’t speak unless he was spoken to first, only giving stuttering one-word responses to Alfred’s questions. After a while, Alfred told him he didn’t have to stay if he didn’t want to, assuring the boy that he could eat without being watched and that he would find a servant to accompany him back to his room when he was finished. The boy seemed relieved and quickly took off, leaving Alfred to his own devices. He ate quickly and stood up, preparing to retrieve a servant when he thought better of it.

Knowing that he had limited time to explore before someone inevitably found him and dragged him back to his room, Alfred hurried out of the lavish dining room and back into the main foyer. He was faced with two sets of grand staircases: one leading to the east wing, the other to the west. Still thinking of the warnings he’d received against going to the west wing, he hurriedly headed in that direction, rushing up the stairs and turning a corner which lead into a large hallway. 

To his surprise, Alfred began to think that the servant’s warnings of the west wing being in disrepair were based in reality. There wasn’t a single light along the hall, and Alfred had to squint in the darkness to see where he was going. As he looked around, he could make out large patches where the wallpaper had been torn from the walls. Paintings had been strewn about, most crooked or knocked entirely off the wall, the glass casing laid over some of them shattered and strewn about the carpet. Even so, he progressed forward, unwilling to return and admit defeat. He might be a prisoner, but that didn’t mean he had to submit to the beast’s requests without question—no, he’d make it as difficult for him as he could. 

Thus, Alfred walked all the way down the hall and came to a fork which could take him either way. He peered down the right and left hallway, noting a door hanging ajar to the right from which an odd, pinkish light was emanating. Alfred immediately started down the hallway, walking quickly to reach the door. He stopped outside of it and peered inside cautiously, allowing his face to be blanketed in the ethereal light. 

He didn’t see the beast inside, to his relief, but his heart began to beat faster at what he did see. The room was practically empty, the only furnishings being a small wooden table upon which a glass case sat. He couldn’t see what was in it, but the light appeared to originate from it, so he stepped inside and slowly crept up to the case. 

He leaned forward, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his narrow nose. Inside the case was the most beautiful rose he’d ever seen, even though it was missing some petals. It emitted a magical light, bathing its surroundings in a beautiful pinkish tint. Alfred reached out and hesitantly laid the pad of his pointer finger against the glass. When the rose remained intact, Alfred slowly moved to rest his palm against the case, watching with fascination as the light streamed through the gaps in his fingers. 

After a moment longer of staring at the rose, Alfred turned away and looked around the room. As he’d assessed before, it was rather barren, but a series of paintings hung along the back wall struck his interest and he approached, looking up at them. In them a family appeared, all dressed in royal garb. The previous owners of the castle, Alfred assumed. 

In one painting a man and a woman were standing together, side-by-side with their hands joined. The man was straight-faced, with dark grey eyes and shaggy red hair. The woman at his side had a sweet smile upon thin lips, but the curve of her face was severe. Her green eyes seemed to twinkle with amusement even in the painting. Upon both of their heads sat intricate, jeweled crowns. 

In the next painting, the man and woman were there again; this time pictured with four young men, two on either side of the couple. It was obvious to Alfred that these were the couple’s children—three with their father’s red hair and one, whose face had been partially obscured by what appeared to be scratch marks upon the canvas, with his mother’s sandy blond hair. 

Beside that painting was another one, this one a portrait of the singular blond son. Again, scratch marks obscured parts of the man’s face, but it was still clear to Alfred that he was handsome. He had a strong jawline, pale skin littered with freckles, and thick brows that suited him. His gaze was severe, the glint of green in the parts of his eyes that hadn’t been ripped away by the scratches seeming awfully familiar to Alfred. He leaned in closer to the painting, raising a hand to touch it. He’d just about rested his hand against the man’s cheek when a loud, booming voice startled him. 

“What are you doing in here?!” Came the shout of what Alfred knew to be the beast. 

Alfred whipped around, floundering uselessly. Unlike the night before, the beast seemed genuinely enraged, sharp teeth bared and his bushy brows pulled down in anger. 

“I-I—I-I was just curious—“ Alfred stuttered, rooted in place out of fear. 

“Haven’t you been told that the west wing is forbidden?!” The best growled as he approached. 

Alfred stumbled back a step, wide-eyed. “I-I was just—“ 

“Just trespassing once again!” The beast stormed forward and Alfred jolted back to life, suddenly fearing for his safety. 

He ducked to the side and rushed away from the paintings. In his haste, he bumped the table containing the rose, watching with horror as the glass case around it teetered. The beast seemed equally terrified, lunging forward. After a moment, his monstrous paws clamped down over the glass, steadying it and the table. Once he was sure it was safe, he looked up to Alfred furiously. 

“GET OUT!” The beast roared, his booming voice echoing. 

Alfred didn’t need to be told twice. Heart pounding madly against his rib cage, he sprinted out of the room and out of the west wing. He reached the grand staircase and caught sight of the grand double doors that led outside, immediately starting toward them. Behind him, he heard servants calling out for him and the pounding of footsteps as several people followed behind him. Alfred propelled himself to the door as fast as he could, wrenching it open and dashing out thoughtlessly. It was pitch black outside despite it supposedly being morning, but Alfred didn’t care.

Alfred continued to run. He didn’t dare turn around, simply running as fast as his long legs would take him. After a moment, the shouts became distant and he chanced a glance over his shoulder, noting that all of the servants were standing at the base of the staircase, calling out to him. Alfred didn’t know why they’d chosen not to chase after him, nor did he care. He ran until the castle was no longer in sight, bursting into the woods. 

Then, he slowed down and gulped, looking around. It was even darker in the woods, not a sliver of light. Alfred had to squint down at the ground just to see the path in front of him. Not only that, but it was incredibly cold and he’d run out of the castle without so much as a cloak. He shuddered, wrapping his arms tightly around himself for warmth. He’d only been walking along the path for a moment when he heard a low growling from behind him and turned, noting a pair of slitted eyes watching him. Alfred took a hesitant step back.

The growling continued and Alfred watched in horror as two more pairs of eyes appeared. Slowly, the face of a grey wolf appeared from the cover of the trees in the woods, its teeth bared and obviously waiting for the right moment to attack Alfred. The American gulped, reaching blindly behind him until he found the branch of one of the trees. It was brittle and weak in his hands, making it easy to break off and hold out in front of him, as if it would really do much in the way of defense. 

Alfred let out a sharp cry when the first wolf lunged at him, swinging the branch out and making contact with the animal’s side. The wolf backed away, recovering from the hit, but the other two were quick to advance. Alfred continued to swing the stick around, keeping them away from him, until one of the wolves caught the stick in his mouth. With a strong pull, Alfred lost his hold on the stick and gaped, backtracking rapidly. As he walked back he stepped onto a branch and gasped as he lost his footing, falling onto the ground on his back. His glasses fell away and he gasped, feeling along the ground for them with no success. 

Even with the world around him incredibly blurred, Alfred knew the wolves were approaching. Their light fur was plain in the darkness, and their growls and pants made it easy to discern that they were approaching him. Alfred’s heart rate quickened and he desperately felt the ground for anything he could use to fend them off. Finally his hand connected with a sturdy branch and he snatched it up, turning back toward the wolves just in time to see the blurry figure of one lunging at him. He let out a fearful scream and raised his arms to cover his face, waiting for the moment of impact, but it never came. 

There was a loud growling noise, a roar, and then whimpering. Alfred’s eyes snapped open to yet another blurry animal-like figure, this one huge, fighting the wolf. The animal was thrown to the side, hitting a tree and then falling to the ground before retreating back into the woods. Alfred watched from his position on the ground as the huge creature fought off the second wolf. He couldn’t see exactly what was happening, but the beast’s cries of pain made it obvious that he was being bitten by the animal. Even so, the beast managed to throw the animal off and the wolf ran, disappearing along with the first one. 

Alfred’s breath came out in loud, ragged pants as he looked at the beast.

“Are you alright?” Demanded the beast, huffing as he stepped closer to Alfred. The man noticed that the creature was limping. 

Unsure of whether he was in danger or not, Alfred kept his mouth shut and nodded, trembling and wide-eyed. The beast continued to draw nearer, one ghastly paw outstretched toward the young man. 

“You must tell me if you’re hurt.” The beast said again, his tone still commanding. 

Alfred’s mouth worked uselessly for a moment. “I—I-I lost my glasses,” he replied shakily. 

The beast paused, seeming surprised to hear him speak. “It’s not safe to stay out here. You can have a new pair made.” He said as he once again offered his paw to the man. 

Alfred blinked, a hint of movement catching his eye from behind the beast’s shoulder blade. He saw the familiar light-colored fur of a wolf and gasped, watching as it reared back to leap at the beast. Unthinking, Alfred tightened his grip on the branch and leapt to his feet. 

“Look out!” He cried as he ducked under the beast’s arm with the branch at the ready. 

The wolf leapt forward just as Alfred stepped into its path. Alfred swung out with the branch, hitting the animal as hard he as he could. He felt the wolf’s claws at his arm, tearing through the fabric of his shirt and digging into his skin as they went down. The wind was knocked from Alfred, his body slamming roughly against the ground as he fell. 

The beast whipped around, throwing the wolf off of Alfred before any more damage could be done. He let out a mighty roar and the wolf made a hasty retreat, clearly unwilling to face him. 

“Christ, are you alright?!” Cried the beast, panic in his tone as he leaned over the American. 

Alfred groaned and nodded, bringing a hand to his arm. The wound stung terribly and burned when he touched it. When he pulled his hand away, he could see faintly the dark substance that coated the tips of his fingers. He winced at the sight and quickly dropped his hand back to the ground, feeling too weak to try and move. 

“You’re hurt—you need a doctor. Can you stand?” The creature inquired, all of the iciness in his tone melting away to reveal genuine concern.

Alfred turned onto his side and forced himself onto his hands and knees. From there, he took a deep breath and then got to his feet, stumbling forward a step. The beast caught him by the arm and steadied him, keeping him close. 

Alfred hissed at the pain and screwed his eyes shut. “Shit, that hurts.” 

“I’ll carry you,” the beast said, hooking an enormous arm around Alfred’s waist. He’d already started to lift the man off the ground when Alfred pushed at him. 

“No! You’re hurt too. You’ll strain your leg even more doing that,” said the young man as he re-adjusted the beast’s arm so that it was draped across his shoulders. “You can use me for some support. We’re not far.” 

The beast looked down to Alfred incredulously, half considering refusing Alfred’s offer of help for the sake of his pride. However, the adrenaline he’d had before when defending the younger man was beginning to wear off, and exhaustion from his fight weighed down heavily upon him. The pain in his leg from where one of the wolves had bitten him was finally catching up to him and he acquiesced, deciding to accept Alfred’s assistance. 

Together, the pair walked slowly to the castle. The beast was ashamed of himself for his limp, feeling that he should be stronger in order to impress Alfred, but he knew that the younger man was equally impaired. He was smaller and less durable than the beast, the injury to his arm causing pain and fatigue. The cold only added to his ailments, causing Alfred to shiver uncontrollably even under the heat of the beast’s massive body. Moreover, Alfred was without his glasses and it was clear his sight was rather poor; thus, the beast was tasked with leading them back to the castle safely.

The moment they’d arrived at the castle gates, Ivan, Natalya, and Katyusha rushed out. 

“Master! L-Lord Alfred!” Cried Katyusha in shock. 

“What happened?!” Demanded Ivan. 

“He was attacked by wolves. His arm is injured and needs to be looked at immediately.” The beast commanded.

“What about you, master? You’re limping!”  Cried Natalia, her voice containing a rare note of worry. 

“A wolf bit me. I should be looked at as well, but you will take care of him first.” Said the beast, looking worriedly to Alfred. 

The handsome young man was growing weak underneath him, the pain from his arm clearly intense. The beast ushered him inside and decided to do as he’d originally intended, lifting Alfred off of his feet with ease. He carried the young man toward a lounge room which contained a fireplace, easing him down upon a plush chair. 

“Sit, master,” urged Katyusha, tugging an armchair closer to the fire.

“Bring hot water, cloth, and bandages.” Natalia commanded her brother.

Ivan nodded and walked away, leaving the two women to inspect both men. 

“‘M fine, I’ll do it myself,” Alfred said tiredly.

“But, sir—“ Natalia began, only to be interrupted. 

“I’ve already caused enough trouble today. I know what to do, don’t worry.” The young man insisted. 

“Er—yes, I’ll do it myself as well. Please go rest, the both of you. After Ivan returns, he’ll be dismissed for the night too.” Said the beast, casting them a knowing look. 

“Yes, master. Thank you.” Katyusha and Natalia bowed their heads and quickly left, leaving the beast alone with Alfred. 

For a moment, they were both silent. Alfred stared into the fire, the golden flames reflecting off of his bright blue eyes in a way that mesmerized the beast. He watched Alfred, admiring the handsome young man until the door creaked open and startled the pair. 

Ivan stepped further into the room and set a large bowl of steaming water, cloth, and several rolls of bandages upon a table in between Alfred and the beast. 

“Should I take care of you two, master?” Asked Ivan, noticing his the absence of his sisters. 

“No, Ivan, you may be dismissed for the night. Thank you.” 

“Yes, sir. Goodnight.” Ivan bowed his head and quickly left, once again leaving the pair alone. This time, Alfred spoke up.

“...Thanks. For, y’know, saving me and everything.” Said Alfred quietly. 

He sat up straight and pulled his shirt off, unaware of the beast’s wide-eyed stare. His muscular, well-tanned chest seemed to glow in the light of the fire, hypnotizing the beast even further. Alfred turned toward the bowl of hot water, dipping the cloth in it and then placing it over his injured arm. He wiped away the blood and looked up to the beast, grimacing. 

“It’s not too bad. Not deep at all.” He murmured, taking the bandages and quickly wrapping them around his bicep. 

The beast gazed at him silently, only speaking when Alfred looked at him expectantly and he realized he’d been staring. 

“Er—yes, you’re welcome. I’m glad you’re not hurt badly.” He said sheepishly, averting his eyes. After a moment of fidgeting awkwardly, he reached for the cloth and dunked it under the water, hesitating. It was clear he didn’t know what to do, and Alfred smiled.

“Let me,” he said, standing.

Alfred took the cloth gently from the beast’s paw—willingly touching him, to the creature’s utter astonishment—and knelt on the floor to inspect his ankle. He set the bowl, cloth and gauze beside him and began to gently wipe at the wound. 

“It got you pretty good,” Alfred said. 

“A-Are you sure you’re the best one to do this? Don’t you need your glasses?” The beast pointed out, hissing in pain when Alfred gently pressed the hot cloth onto the wound, applying pressure. 

“It’s not hard even with bad eyesight, really. But if you want to—“ 

“No,” The beast said, feeling the skin beneath his fur heating with embarrassment. “No, I trust your judgement. You seem to know more about this than I do. In any case, I’ll have a new pair of glasses made for you.” 

Alfred continued to clean the wound and nodded. “Thanks,” he said, smiling softly. 

The beast nodded and watched as the young man cleaned and bandaged his wound with surprising gentility. 

“I… I didn’t mean to scare you earlier. In the west wing,” said the beast carefully. 

Alfred met his eyes for a moment, blue on green, and then shook his head. “I… That’s alright. What was it, though? That rose—“ 

“—is none of your concern. I forgive you for being in the west wing despite your being explicitly forbidden, but that does not permit you to ask questions which you shouldn’t.” 

Alfred huffed as he finished bandaging the beast’s wound, frowning up at him from his seat on the floor. “Why not? Isn’t this meant to be my home now too? I should be allowed to go wherever I want.” 

The beast scowled back at him. “You were told not to go in there. You have the entire east wing—“ 

“But it was obvious you were hiding something.” Alfred interrupted. “If you just tell me—“ 

“Absolutely not!” The beast slammed a hand down upon the table with a loud clatter. 

Rather than the immediate silence the beast expected from Alfred, the American stood up with a huff. “You know, you need to learn how to control your temper!”

The beast blinked, surprised by the man’s outburst. It wasn’t often someone openly challenged him, especially not a commoner who clearly lacked any significant rank. The fire in Alfred’s eyes, the determination clear in the set of his jaw, was enchanting to the beast, who had been given everything he wanted on a silver platter since birth. Only one person before Alfred had ever thought to question him—the enchantress who had forced the curse on the beast to begin with. She’d told him in a letter she’d left behind after her disappearance that he’d grow sick and tired of constantly being pleased once he realized he had no one who truly cared, but he hadn’t believed her at the time. Now, though, he knew she’d been right. He’d been so bored before Alfred shown up—even knowing that his servants cared for him, he was aware that they did all they did to please him. He had no one to speak to as a peer, for his servants refused to break that barrier. Now, a fiery blond with a stubbornness to rival his own had appeared, and for the first time since the curse had been placed, the beast felt hopeful. 

“...Alright, alright. I apologize, Alfred.” The beast acquiesced. 

Alfred’s shoulders slumped and he sighed, easing himself to sit down beside the beast. “...Apology accepted.”

The beast looked to Alfred, surprised, and their eyes met once more. For the first time, Alfred gave him a genuine smile. The beast felt his heart flutter, and he knew he was in trouble. 

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to my writing blog, @afjakwrites on tumblr.


End file.
